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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650783">Monster in the Closet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae666/pseuds/Rae666'>Rae666</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Revenge, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Young Winchesters (Supernatural)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae666/pseuds/Rae666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in Colorado, children from 3 families have gone missing, can the boys find out what's going on before forgotten memories come back to haunt them, more specifically – Dean. Flashbacks gonna happen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Creaks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an old fic of mine that was originally posted over at Fanfic.net. I figured I would slowly start posting some of my fics from over there onto this site over time. Given the recent episode in season 15, it made me remember this fic and how much I loved writing it.</p>
<p>Set about season 2 if I remember correctly.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>1. Creaks</p>
<p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>
  <em>Sam – When I told Dad I was afraid of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dean – What was he supposed to do?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sam – I was nine years old. He was supposed to say "Don't be afraid of the dark."</em>
</p>
<p>Two Days Ago</p>
<p>It was warm both outside and inside the house, a stuffy kind of warmth that always came after particularly bad storms filled with deafening thunder and blinding lightning. And it was still. The kind of still that could only ever exist after such loud and exciting yet terrifying storms. So with half her covers on and half thrown off, Megan tried her best to fall asleep.</p>
<p>Bleary eyes tried to make out her clock, but the darkness was too thick. She moaned and changed position. She was far too young to be having trouble sleeping but with that storm earlier, her body refused to rest. Her mouth felt dry and it was aggravating her but she'd just managed to get into a comfortable position. In the end, thirst would win though. Mumbling incoherent curse words that such a young and innocent mouth should not even know, she clambered out of bed and shoved her feet into her soft pink fluffy slippers.</p>
<p>She was a brave nine year old, that could be said – came from being an only child, no one to be compared against enforced her strengths, made her swell with too much pride but then again, not all nine year olds would be as comfortable as she was fumbling down the stairs towards the kitchen in the dark.</p>
<p>It wasn't until she reached the bottom of the stairs that she heard a creak from upstairs. Big house like this, bound to have a few creaks every now and then. But her reasoning didn't calm her. She took a deep breath and rushed into the kitchen, slamming her hand against the light switch. The light flooded the room, spilling into the hallway slightly.</p>
<p>"You are so overreacting." She laughed at herself and went about her business, forcing the water down.</p>
<p>She refilled the glass and placed in on the side whilst she searched the small utility cupboard for a flashlight. A Small one sat right at the front and she immediately pulled it out and tested it.</p>
<p>So, now armed with a flashlight and carrying her glass of water, she turned the kitchen light off and headed slowly back up stairs.</p>
<p>"Don't be stupid." She said to herself, gently pushing her bedroom door open, "Afraid of the dark? Me? No way."</p>
<p>She made a quick sweep of the room with the flashlight, there was nothing there. The most unnerving thing was her closet door was slightly ajar but that could be from her messy tidy up before bed. She stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.</p>
<p>"I'm too old to believe in monsters under beds and in closets too!" She told herself, but it didn't stop her from closing the closet door fully.</p>
<p>Megan placed her glass of water on her bedside cabinet and climbed back into bed. With one last glance around the room, she switched the flashlight off and stuffed it safely under her pillow.</p>
<p>She was determined now more than ever to fall asleep. Her eyes were pressed tight shut and her covers pulled up to her chin.</p>
<p>Within minutes she found herself drifting, falling into dreams. And that was when it came again. The creaking. It rudely woke her up from that sweet limbo and made her body freeze and her eyes snap open.</p>
<p>She didn't want to look but a sick curiosity drove her to and she turned her head in slow hesitation to see, and what she saw was not comforting. The closet door creaked open, revealing a hulking shadow.</p>
<p>Cold grey eyes locked with hers, keeping her firmly in place as this being edged its way out of her closet and towards her trembling body. She tried to scream but only managed to squeak and as if she missed the movement somewhere, it's hand was suddenly on her mouth.</p>
<p>"Shhhh…." It whispered, a cold hand stroking her hair.</p>
<p>And as it rose from its position, she made one attempt for freedom, sending her glass of water flying, shattering into a thousand pieces and she screamed for her parents to rescue her but before she made it out of bed, the thing had scooped her up into it's arms and was headed back towards the closet.</p>
<p>As the closet door shut, her screams were deafened and the night fell into and eerie cold silence.</p>
<p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>Present Day</p>
<p>It was late and the Winchesters were up searching for their next gig. Dean lay on his bed with the laptop; he was scanning a couple of articles concerning missing children. Five so far; the latest being Megan Thompson who had disappeared only a couple of nights ago.</p>
<p>Sam had originally found the articles and was now busying himself around the room while Dean looked them over. Basically, he was clearing up after his big brother.</p>
<p>"So you think whatever this thing is, it's attacking kids?" Dean asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah, just like the Shtriga – I dunno, maybe it is one."</p>
<p>"Nah, it would have put the kids in hospital, it wouldn't have taken them."</p>
<p>"But it's moving through families, similar patterns."</p>
<p>Dean looked at the names again, Sam was right; it did seem to be working that way.</p>
<p>"Except it didn't take the Vaughn's eldest." Sam interjected before Dean's thoughts could go any further, "Which is kind of weird."</p>
<p>"Mary Walters aged eleven goes missing and two days later her little brother Joe, aged nine does the same vanishing act." Dean went through the facts out loud, trying to organise his thoughts, "Then in the next week, the Vaughn's youngest disappears, Michael, six years old, followed by his sister two days later again. Oldest stays put and this thing moves onto the next family and takes Megan Thompson, an only child. Not making much sense yet Sammy."</p>
<p>"It could be a bust, bunch of local kids playing a prank, I know but…"</p>
<p>"You're right, I know you are. There's definitely something up, even the non-psychic wonder that is me can see that. Could be a creature, or maybe some mystic cult."</p>
<p>Dean closed the laptop and chucked it over onto Sam's bed, Sam was still busying about but Dean was ready for a good nights sleep before they set off at whatever time Sam decided to torture Dean into getting up at.</p>
<p>"Sammy man, you need to sleep, like I'm about to do. And I swear, if you've moved my food I'll so kick your arse."</p>
<p>"I've left your M&amp;M's on the table, where you left them before and I haven't touched them and I'm going to bed, now in fact." He opened the utility cupboard door and there the bad of rubbish he'd collected into it, where it landed next to a pathetic and broken three foot tall vacuum cleaner. Then he moved his laptop off his bed so he could easily climb into it.</p>
<p>"Dude!" Dean said warningly.</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"Door!"</p>
<p>Sam stared at Dean and then back at the open cupboard door, "You're twenty eight years old Dean, are you trying to tell me you're afraid of the thing in the closet?"</p>
<p>"Shut up!" Dean shot at his brother, "It has them thingy mijigs in, you know the ones that make loud annoying ticking noises during the night."</p>
<p>"Oh so you're afraid of the noises."</p>
<p>"Just shut up and close the damned door."</p>
<p>Sam smirked, it was always fun teasing his big brother, and closed the closet door.</p>
<p>"Night, wuss." He teased.</p>
<p>"Night, pain in my ass." Dean retorted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Brave Young Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is complete, it's just a matter of uploading from the other site.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>2. Brave Young Man</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>
  <em>March 1988</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean Winchester was a brave young boy. It was the he'd been brought up. He was also a big brother; this meant he had the job of protecting his younger brother, who wasn't as brave as Dean. But little Sammy was only four years old, how brave could a four year old be?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean Winchester wasn't afraid of anything, he didn't allow himself to be, he'd never allow himself to be. After all, Daddy wouldn't trust him to look after Sam if he himself needed looking after. Sure, in the past his Dad had left his boys in more capable hands whenever he went on his hunts but Dean was nine years old now and was really responsible for a kid his age and mature too – when he wasn't playing dumb pranks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was eleven o'clock on Friday night and his Dad and Bobby were sitting in the other room, discussing their latest problem. Dean has asked several times throughout the evening if he could help and Sammy, being Sammy, had copied. John just pulled his boys into a tight embrace, telling them he and Bobby could manage and he sent them to finish off homework (well, Dean had homework, Sammy had that all to come yet), play, watch TV or do what they wanted before nine o'clock rolled round and it was time for bed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nine o'clock had come and gone and Dean didn't want to sleep. He sat up on his bed, listening to the conversation in the next room. He didn't know much about what was going on but he'd heard some kids had gone missing. That's probably why he wasn't included, 'cause he was still a kid.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pouted silently, telling the darkness that he wasn't a kid and in reply, came a creaking noise.</em>
</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>Present Day</p><p>As expected, Sam woke Dean up far too early for his liking. It was before eight o'clock and that was all Dean needed to know in order to be angry at his younger brother. Sam on the other hand found it near impossible to believe that Dean could actually sleep until six in the morning, because that's what time it was, especially when they had a case to be getting on with.</p><p>The only thing that stopped Dean from bitching and quite possibly injuring Sam was the fact that is kind young brother had brought a peace offering in the form of coffee and donuts. Not just any doughnuts either, chocolate doughnuts with the sprinkles – nearly anything could be forgiven this early on the morning if you gave Dean Winchester chocolate doughnuts with sprinkles.</p><p>"I'm still angry with you." Dean said simply, stuffing a doughnut into his mouth.</p><p>That was all that was said about the matter and as soon as the Winchesters were ready, they were on the road and on their way to a new gig.</p><p>"And the plan?" Dean asked as they neared their destination.</p><p>"You haven't thought of one?"</p><p>"Dude, you're the geek boy."</p><p>"Usual I guess, interview the families, maybe check the kids rooms if they'll let us."</p><p>"What we gonna tell 'em? F.B.I.?"</p><p>"Not quite sure this would be F.B.I."</p><p>"We've got five missing kids, it should be F.B.I."</p><p>"Fine, feds it is then."</p><p>"No need to sound so enthralled, you make a pretty good fed, scary but good."</p><p>"You know, this means suits."</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>He hated the suit but for some reason the ladies didn't. The ladies found the suit and the long jacket to be extremely attractive, especially on a Winchester. But they weren't Winchesters today. Today they were Agent Scott and Agent Kroeger. And Agent Scott and Agent Kroeger stood outside of the Thompson family home, waiting for an answer.</p><p>A confused looking man opened the door but didn't speak. Sam took charge.</p><p>"Mr Thompson?" - The man nodded numbly in reply – "We're with the F.B.I., Agent Scot and Kroeger, we were hoping to ask you and you're wife a couple of questions."</p><p>Mr Thompson stood still, unsure how to respond.</p><p>"May we come in?"</p><p>Still silent, he opened the door further and allowed the two strangers to pass into his home. Once comfortably in the hall, he shut the door and led them into the living room.</p><p>"Honey?" Called a female voice from an adjoined room.</p><p>"Some people are here to ask us some questions." Mr Thompson spoke for the first time, his voice so quiet his wife wouldn't have heard it had she not entered the room.</p><p>She had a cup in either hand and she froze at the sight of the boys, "Oh?"</p><p>"We don't mean to intrude, we're with the F.B.I. and we were hoping you could answer some questions for us." Dean spoke softly.</p><p>"You mean we haven't answered enough?" She snapped, moving to hand her husband one of the cups, "I'm sorry. It's not your fault; I know you're only trying to help. I just can't stand this, any of it."</p><p>"You're bound to be angry and upset, when someone you love goes missing it kind of drives you nuts, I know." Dean offered, "But we really do want to help."</p><p>They were understanding and patient, not patronising or condescending, it made it so much easier for Mrs Thompson to answer to answer questions. Mr Thompson seemed in a world of his own, occasionally there with a murmur of agreement or a nod of the head.</p><p>"So the last thing you heard was the sound of screaming and glass shattering?"</p><p>"It woke us up, but she was gone by the time we got to her room."</p><p>"And no signs of forced entry?"</p><p>"Not that we know of, the police did a thorough search. I heard one of them say it was just like the other cases."</p><p>"Did you know the other children, or parents?"</p><p>"Not really, two of them were in Megan's class so I guess they knew each other. She doesn't really get on well with most kids. She's a bit of a Daddy's girl, hangs with him a lot."</p><p>"Do you mind if we take a look around her room?" Sam pointed at the stairs as he spoke.</p><p>"No, I'll show you where it is."</p><p>The police seemed to have done their job in the room, leaving a few muddy footprints and the mess for the parents to clean up. Sam studied the window, there was no way someone could have used that, it was way too high. Dean scanned the room with his makeshift EMF metre; there wasn't much to be found until he got to the closet. It spiked. It went crazy. He opened the door and the world felt unsteady for the tiniest of seconds.</p><p>"Dean, you okay?" Sam moved towards his moved.</p><p>"Dean shook himself mentally, "Yeah, just felt a little light headed."</p><p>Sam looked down at the metre in Dean's hands and back towards the closet, he half smiled, "Tell me we're not dealing with what I think we're dealing with because I loved the movie and all but it can't be the real deal, right?"</p><p>"I dunno Sam, do you believe in the boogeyman?"</p><p>
  <em>He pouted silently, telling the darkness that he wasn't a kid and in reply, came a creaking noise.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Watched</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are some formatting issues that have happened overtime with this story, so please be kind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>3. Watched</p>
<p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>
  <em>March 1988</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Had Dean Winchester had a normal childhood, he would have dismissed the noise and pulled his covers up over his head but alas, he hadn't had a normal childhood and he was far from a normal child.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The creaking continued and he turned his head to the side. His closet door was opening, that just wasn't natural and if it wasn't natural then his Dad needed to know about it straight away.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Daaaaaad!" Dean shouted as he kicked his covers off and hurried out of the room towards his father.</em></p>
<p>"<em>Dean? Shouldn't you be asleep?" John asked his slightly pale son.</em></p>
<p>"<em>There's something in my room, something in my closet!" Dean bounced on the balls of is feet, pointing at his bedroom door.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>He never saw his father and Bobby share a meaningful glance before they rushed off, guns in hand, to the eldest child's room. Dean followed, happy to stay behind the adults.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John flicked the light switch and light filled the room, everything was as it should be, covers strewn half on the floor, half on the bed but more importantly – the closet door was shut.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>It was opening by itself, I swear!" Dean stared accusingly at the door, demanding that it reinact what it had done before.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>John nodded at Bobby. They moved to the door, both ready. John flung the door open and aimed the gun into the closet, Bobby's gun aimed also. But there was nothing there, just an empty closet.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>John sighed and Bobby moved away, rolling his eyes. He scuffled Dean's hair as he passed him going back through to the other room.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Look kiddo, there isn't anything here. You're probably just tired and imagining things."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Dean pouted, he was being called a kid again AND he was being told he was imagining things.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Come and see for yourself."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Dean nearly growled at his father but did as he was told and moved towards the closet, enough so he could see inside.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>See? Nothing?" John glanced again into the closet, the empty normal closet, and then at his wide eyed son.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Dean Winchester did see nothing. A big gaping whole of nothingness that threatened to swallow him. He grew cold inside and shivered, he swore he saw the shadows move and as he continued to stare into them, his eyes locked with a pair of cold grey ones.</em>
</p>
<p>Present Day</p>
<p>Agents Scott and Kroeger were no more. They were packed up and in the trunk of the black Impala parked outside the motel room. Sam and Dean Winchester however were comparing notes inside the room, comparing interviews, profiles and just general case notes.</p>
<p>"You really think we could be dealing with a classic 'monster in the closet' thing?" Sam asked.</p>
<p>"Why not? A lot of other fairy tales are true, or at least loosely based on fact."</p>
<p>"Yeah but this ones just told to scare kids, keep 'em good."</p>
<p>"Yeah and vampires turn to dust." Dean replied sarcastically.</p>
<p>"Okay, I get your point. So let's focus on finding out how to kill this thing and how to get those kids back. Did Dad ever meet a err.. boogeyman?"</p>
<p>"Not that I know of. There was that time you told him 'bout the thing in your closet – "</p>
<p>"Yeah I know, he gave me a freaking gun." Sam smiled at the memory, it was funny to think of it now.</p>
<p>"Well, yeah but he shipped us off to Pastor Jim's for a bit shortly afterwards. But anyway, no, and nowhere in his journal does he mention one."</p>
<p>"Right, so all we've got to go on really is a few scary movies and bedtime stories, great."</p>
<p>"If we can figure out a pattern, we might be able to meet it at its next victims and then just try loads of different things."</p>
<p>"Yeah, because that normally works."</p>
<p>Dean ignored his brother's remark and went back to studying the paperwork they had collected. Sam rejoined him shortly afterwards. Every now and then Dean would stuff a few M&amp;Ms into his mouth. He was starving and you couldn't blame him, it was late and after interviewing all the families he was running low, not to mention he hadn't had much to eat since those doughnuts.</p>
<p>Sam's stomach growled, echoing Dean's thoughts. Dean looked up at him, his face clearly saying 'we need to eat' and Sam nodded in agreement. As they left the darkened motel room for door, they never heard the creaking.</p>
<p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p>
<p>Little Ricky lay in a peaceful slumber. His covers were wound tight and his night light softly lit his room. His dreams were full of candy and lollipops, along with a chocolate bunny or two. He rushed after them greedily, across the pink wafer bridge. But the bridge made a creaking noise and he found himself falling into the cold milk below.</p>
<p>And he woke up. He was freezing, shivering even and he could still hear that creaking noise. He stared at his ceiling with a puzzled expression on his face. His night light flickered and went out. That's when he realised the creaking was his closet door.</p>
<p>Quickly, he dove under the covers and curled up into a ball, making himself as small as he possibly could. The air felt icy, he was sure of it. The creaking stopped, it turned into something else, a silent whistle as if something was gliding towards him.</p>
<p>He whimpered. It heard him and stopped. But it didn't stop long. It removed his covers and he couldn't help but meet its eyes. What was this thing? It looked like it might feed him to the darkness or drain him dry, he didn't know what it wanted but he wished it gone.</p>
<p>He wished he was back inside his dreams or sweets and sugary goodness because he felt safe there. Momentarily his eyes searched the empty side of the room opposite his bed where another bed had once been. It had belonged to his older brother who had persuaded his parents to let him have his own room now he was nine years old. Little Ricky hated that because the one place he felt safer in more than his candy dreams, was his brothers strong protective arms.</p>
<p>And so Ricky screamed out to his older brother, tears streaming down his face, crying for him to come running from his new room in time to save him. But as the thing took him up in its arms and covered his mouth, the footsteps didn't come quick enough and as the bedroom door opened, the closet door closed.</p>
<p>
  <em>He grew cold inside and shivered, he swore he saw the shadows move and as he continued to stare into them, his eyes locked with a pair of cold grey ones.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Whispers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>4. Whispers</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>
  <em>March 1988</em>
</p><p>"<em>Dad! It's right there." Dean's voice was shaking; he tried to control it but those grey eyes burned into him and gave him icy chills at the same time, "Look!"</em></p><p>
  <em>John did look, but still he saw nothing but an ordinary closet. He closed the door and knelt down in front of Dean, placing a large hand on his son's forehead.</em>
</p><p>"<em>You feeling okay, kiddo?" He asked, "You are kind of warm actually."</em></p><p>"<em>I'm fine but there's something in there Dad, you've got to believe me."</em></p><p>"<em>Look, I've checked, you saw me check and I didn't see anything inside the closet. You think I'd lie to you?"</em></p><p>
  <em>Dean shook his head and bit his lip, "But Dad…"</em>
</p><p>"<em>You feel like you might be getting a fever, you remember what Sammy was like last month when he had the flu?"</em></p><p>
  <em>Dean would have laughed at the memory had be not felt such fear over that thing hiding behind the closed closet door. It was a funny memory – Sam had many hallucinations, in fact he'd insisted that the small apartment they were staying in was infested with rabbits, hundreds of them of all colours from white and black to pink and green. He even told Dean about the 'leprechaun' that came to visit him. Dean had later over heard him talking to this 'leprechaun' which turned out to be the small green vacuum cleaner that stood over in the corner of the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But that wasn't what was happening to Dean. Dean felt fine and healthy, no flu virus was infecting him and giving him hallucinations.</em>
</p><p>"<em>Dad, please…" Dean begged.</em></p><p>
  <em>John found himself sighing again, "You can sleep in my room tonight but only tonight, understood?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean nodded happily and flung his arms around his father, he hadn't expected to be let off so lightly. He'd expected his Dad to order him to grow up and just go to bed but he was thankful that he hadn't.</em>
</p><p>"<em>What about Sammy?" Dean asked, breaking away from the hug.</em></p><p>"<em>Sammy is fine, Dean." John breathed, "I'm not waking him up to drag him into my room."</em></p><p>
  <em>Dean felt his cheeks redden, he hadn't meant for his dad to think that, "No… just keep checking on him, okay Dad?"</em>
</p><p>"<em>Of course I will."</em></p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>Present Day</p><p>When the boys returned to their room after food, they decided to call it a night. There was no way either of them could focus because so far, this job was beyond confusing. Even with the amount of children who had gone missing, there still seemed to be no actual connections between the families so either this thing was just particularly random or overly complicated.</p><p>Sam was already asleep in his bed when Dean finished in the bathroom. He looked over at his younger brother and smirked, he couldn't help remembering the black marker hidden in the bottom of his bag but no, he would resist – this time.</p><p>"It would be so easy." Dean laughed, walking over to his bed but he froze before he got there, his ears strained. He was sure he'd heard a whisper but now there was nothing.</p><p>He climbed into his bed and just laid there. His eyes wide open, his senses on red alert, waiting for another whisper or another sound. But the only sounds that came were the soft tickings of the thingy mijgs from the cupboard. It took Dean mere seconds to decide that the door to the closet was ajar once again and needed shutting. When he'd scooted out of bed and clambered to close it, he snuggled back up under his covers and allowed his eyes to close.</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>"Wake up sleeping beauty!" Sam shouted, a little too loudly if you asked Dean, but no one ever seemed to do that, especially not Sam.</p><p>"Wha?" Dean groaned opening his eyes and pulling himself up.</p><p>"Cops are out. 'Nother kids gone missing."</p><p>That woke him up. Never mind caffeine, if a kid's life was in danger, that was all the stimulation he needed, "How much info you got?"</p><p>"Not much, kids name was Richard Moss."</p><p>"He got any siblings?"</p><p>"Dude, I've only just found out he's missing…"</p><p>Dean raised his eyebrows, the words 'geek boy' circling in his mind and edging closer to his tongue. Same must have seen the same words written in Dean's eyes because he broke down, "Yeah, okay. He's got an older brother, he's the one that found the bedroom empty."</p><p>"Think he heard something?"</p><p>"That's what the cops on the radio said. He heard his brother screaming but when he went to check, he couldn't find him."</p><p>"So we'll wait for the cops to clear then do our stuff?"</p><p>"It could be dark before they're gone."</p><p>"Great." Dean cursed, "His brother could be in danger, I mean this thing is going through families."</p><p>"Whatever this is, it seems to wait a few nights before claiming another victim. I think he'll be safe tonight but we're gonna have to come up with a reason to talk to him."</p><p>"You know what school the kid goes to?"</p><p>"I'm guessing the same as the others; it's the only one in the area. Why?"</p><p>"Well, his kid brother's just gone missing; I reckon he might need a bit of counselling."</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>
  <em>March 1988</em>
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  <em>He lay awake in his fathers bed for ages and he thought he was finally drifting off as the voices of John and Bobby grew distant but no such luck. They had just moved into the kitchen by the sounds of it.</em>
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  <em>It wasn't that Dean was frightened and even if he was, which he wasn't, he wouldn't admit it. What was really bothering Dean was his constant worry for Sam. What if the thing in his closet went after his younger brother instead?</em>
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  <em>Later that night when John went to check on Sam, just like he had promised Dean he would and just like he always did when he was with his boys – constantly checking in on both of them, his eldest was curled up on the floor between Sammy and the closet. He couldn't help but smile, his son's makeshift floor bed was probably beyond uncomfortable but if it meant protecting Sammy from harm, Dean didn't care.</em>
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  <em>John bent over and scooped Dean and his blankets up, "Come on Champ, before you catch a cold."</em>
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  <em>Dean groaned but didn't wake and as quietly as he may have said it, John heard him whisper 'Sam'.</em>
</p><p>"<em>Guess you're sharing Sam's bed tonight." And he placed Dean gently next to Sam and laid the covers over him. He kissed both his boys foreheads and told them he loved them – something he wished he did more when they were awake.</em></p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>5. Morning After</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>"Mr and Mrs Moss?" Sam asked solemnly.</p><p>"Yes?" Mrs Moss narrowed he eyes suspiciously.</p><p>"We're from the school, kind of a big brother counsellor scheme. We were really hoping we could talk to Jacob."</p><p>"I know he hasn't come to school but his little brother, our youngest, has just gone missing. Now if you don't mind…"</p><p>"Please, that's not why we're here. We just wanna talk Jacob through it. It'll help us get a measure of when he'll be back in school, it might also help him to remember some important details about that night – it could help find Richard." <em>That's a lot of helping, </em>Dean thought as he spoke, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself.</p><p>"Okay, but only if he wants to and not for long." Mrs Moss bit her lip and welcomed the young gentlemen in; Dean had obviously played the right card.</p><p>"Jacob?" She called through the house, "Come here darling."</p><p>It took a few minutes but the young boy finally appeared at the top of the stairs.</p><p>"Hey kiddo." Dean smiled at him, a flicker of a smile was returned but only out of politeness.</p><p>"He's barely spoke so don't push him. I think he blames himself and he won't believe me when I say we'll get him back." Mr Moss spoke a lot gentler than Sam or Dean had expected, considering his looks, kind of like a hockey player.</p><p>"Do you mind if we talk?" Sam asked as Jacob approached.</p><p>Jacob shrugged and looked at his mother; she smiled and nodded, silently telling him it was okay.</p><p>"How old are you kiddo?" Dean asked, kneeling down in front of the small boy.</p><p>"Nine." He mumbled.</p><p>Sam watched as his brother started breaking down the walls that this child had put up. Who better to break walls down than someone who knew exactly how to put them up? It would probably be hard enough for Dean to get through, what with being a total stranger, without having Sam hovering so he decided to change the plan a little.</p><p>"Mr Moss, you mind if we talk in the living room? Dean's great with kids and Jacob might feel more comfortable without the staring eyes. I've only got a couple of questions to ask you and Mrs Ross."</p><p>Dean looked up at Sam, his brow furrowed.</p><p>"Yeah, sure." The couple were reluctant to leave their son but logically, they knew they couldn't start distrusting every person who talked to them or Jacob, so they led Sam and left both Dean and Jacob speechless.</p><p>"Well…" Dean said, letting the word hang. Jacob just stared after his parents.</p><p>"You're dad said you blame yourself." That got his attention.</p><p>"He's my little brother, I should have been there. I should have run faster."</p><p>"I know how you feel, believe me. Little brothers have a way of getting themselves into trouble quite a lot but I promise you it was NOT your fault and I am going to do everything I can to get him back so you can kick his… er, tell him off."</p><p>"You were gonna say ass." Jacob smiled mischievously.</p><p>"I thought you were nine!" Dean tried to remember if he'd known that sort of stuff when he was that age. Then again, with a father like his, he most probably did and probably used it too.</p><p>"Okay, so Jacob I need you to tell me all you remember about that night."</p><p>"Not much to remember. I heard Ricky screaming, it woke me up. I always wake up when he's had a nightmare and stuff. I really ran as fast as I could, I swear! But when I got there, I didn't see anything."</p><p>"Do you remember anything about the room? Open windows?"</p><p>"No. Ricky doesn't like the window open so it's always shut but it was cold, really cold."</p><p>Dean stood up and looked up the stairs, "You mind showing me Ricky's room?"</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>
  <em>March 1988</em>
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  <em>Sammy was more pleased than shocked when he woke up to find his brother lying next to him on the bed. Normally the boys shared a room but the rooms in this apartment were far too small to have more than one bed and so the boys were separated during their sleeping hours for the first time. The past few nights had been restless for Sam but he'd slept like a log last night and his young mind immediately put it down to Dean's presence.</em>
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  <em>He lay there for a minute in silence before deciding it was time to go in search for food. As tempting as it was to wake his older brother from the peaceful slumber he was currently in, Sammy decided he'd leave him lying and pour his own cereal this morning. When he got to the kitchen, he saw his father sitting at the table, deep shaded bags under his eyes and a yawn desperately searching for its escape. His hand held a pen loosely and tapped it over and over and over again on the table top.</em>
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  <em>John Winchester was a stubborn man and prone to frustration. Both his boys were excellent at reading the signs for his up and coming frustration, Dean had watched his father many times and had picked up on the tell tale signs over the years, he had taught Sammy how to do the same. And right now, Sammy was reading those signs loud and clear which meant he had to tread carefully.</em>
</p><p>"<em>Morning." He said softly.</em></p><p>"<em>Morning kiddo." John briefly looked up from the bits of paper in front of him and flashed his son a tired smile.</em></p><p>"<em>What you doing?" Sam went on, trying his best to reach for the bowl on the work top.</em></p><p>"<em>Just working on a case."</em></p><p>
  <em>Sam groaned as he reached, his fingers finally touching the bowl and dragging it forwards, a little too far forwards and the rest was all gravity's fault as it came crashing down to the kitchen floor with a clash and a clatter. Thank heavens for plastic bowls.</em>
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  <em>Sammy spun around, he was never very good at treading carefully like Dean had told him to when their dad was frustrated. John looked up from his papers with a weary smile, it was true that this case was making him agitated and sometimes when it got really bad, he might snap at his sons but looking at the innocent face of Sam's, he just couldn't. He had been about to say 'If you wanted help, you should have asked' but he was interrupted by a shout from Sammy's bedroom and then the door was flung open, which just sent waves of banging and throbbing through his head and he could help the angry "Dean!" which escaped his lips.</em>
</p><p>"<em>Sammy?" Dean called, rushing towards the kitchen where he'd heard his Dad. </em></p><p>
  <em>He couldn't quite remember but he'd woken up to the sound of a clatter and the first thing he knew was that Sam wasn't there. He'd taken a deep breath and looked into the empty closet before calling out his brother name and rushing from the bedroom, carelessly letting the door bang open.</em>
</p><p>"<em>Dean? What wrong?" Sam asked as his brother walked into the kitchen.</em></p><p>
  <em>Dean once again felt his face redden, embarrassed by his behaviour, the best thing to do in a situation like this was to start a conversation that was not about him shouting and clashing through apartment, "Where Bobby?"</em>
</p><p>"<em>He's gone to get some proper coffee. What the hell is wrong with you Dean?" His father asked, sure Dean was protective of Sam but he never normally went screaming through the house if Sam wasn't in his line of sight.</em></p><p>
  <em>Dean looked at the floor, his face going an even deeper shade of red. How does a nine year old tell his father that he thought the thing from the closet, which his father refused to believe was there because he couldn't see it, had taken his younger brother? He just couldn't, if he kept insisting there was something in the closet then his Dad would just go mad.</em>
</p><p>.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.</p><p>Present Day</p><p>"I just don't understand what is happening. I know a few other children have gone missing but I just didn't think anything about it. I just felt sorry for the parents and went on with my life and now I'm one of them. Ricky is good kid, I don't care what anyone says, even if he could run off, he wouldn't. He loves his brother too much, he won't go anywhere without him." Mrs Moss failed to stop the tears streaming down her face as she spoke to Sam.</p><p>"He was devastated when we gave Jacob the old study, it's just down the hall but for Ricky, it was still too far away. He loves his big brother and Jacob loves him too. Oh God, I don't know if I can handle knowing what's being done to him. Why would someone take a kid?" The still gentle voice of Mr Moss broke through his wife's sobs.</p><p>Sam sipped the drink he had been given and just listened, he hadn't asked many questions, and mainly he just let them talk. That's what they need, they needed to talk but they also needed two other things, answers and their son. Sam had neither, so he just sat quietly, taking in as much information as he could. He couldn't even reassure them because there was also the possibility that whatever had taken the children had no intention of keeping them alive.</p><p>Of course, there was one last theory as well, which Sam didn't like much and he refused to even voice it to Dean because Dean's mind was totally focused on it being the 'boogeyman'. What if it was the parents? What if all the parents belonged to some weirdo cult and were using their own children as sacrifices or something? No. He couldn't think that. And whilst sitting watching Mr and Mrs Moss, he seriously doubted this theory could be true.</p><p>To be honest, as crazy as Dean's theory sounded and considering the evidence so far, the monster in the closet was looking like the prime suspect.</p>
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